


To any fate

by Backroadsspirit



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch
Genre: Found Families, Gen, I love Jean and Locke´s friendship okay?, Missing Scene, Red Seas und Red Skies, maybe a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backroadsspirit/pseuds/Backroadsspirit
Summary: "I´ll follow you to any fate, and you know it.” That´s what Jean tells him, below the deck of the Kingfisher. It takes him a little longer to realize what it means.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	To any fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone:) This is my first attempt at writing these wonderful characters I´ve only discovered a few months ago, so I hope I didn´t butcher them too much. The first line is taken directly out of Red Sea under Red Skies, the rest is my own and shamefully unbetaed. If you find any mistakes, feel free to throw them overboard.  
> I´d love to know what you think:)

_„I´ll follow you to any fate, and you know it.”_

Only much later, after the initiation, after his conversation with Zamira and their morning-after reconciliation, does it hit Locke. He is scrubbing the lower deck, focused on nothing but the feeling of wet cloth in his fingers and late-morning sun on his back when Jean´s words from yesterday come back to him. And they feel like a punch to the gut, the kind that leaves you breathless and bend over like a puppet with its strings cut.

Because he does know.

It´s almost instinctual knowledge, really. And not because he takes Jean for granted, cause he doesn´t. Not after what the man has done for him, time and again, even when he would have rather literally drowned in horse piss than get up another morning. But still he always just…knows Jean is standing right beside him without even turning his head, as reliably present as the ski every time he looks up. There is, he realizes with a start that feels like a wave of cold water, no future in which he pictures himself without Jean. He doesn´t even know if he could.

_„I´ll follow you to any fate, and you know it.”_

As much as the words warm him in places not even the sun can touch, they also terrify him. Because, if he´s being honest with himself, there is also no future in which he sees himself growing old. Buying a fancy lord´s title, retiring rich and happy, those were easy dreams to spin. Maybe he even believed in them, in that carriage towards Tal Verrar. But somewhere between then and now, he stopped believing. Somewhere between then and now, things got complicated, they got fucked over more times than he ever though possible and the poison currently flowing through their veins is more than proof enough that things don´t ever really go the way he plans them.

_And why should you grow old, really? Bug sure didn´t. Or Galo, Caldo, Nascza. What makes you special?_

But Jean. His hand stills, the cloth and the deck and the task forgotten, because all of a sudden, he can´t bear the thought that the man would be stupid enough to follow him there, too.

That´s the moment Jean and Ezri step on deck together. Her hair is tangled and he wears his shirt backwards and they hold each other’s hand like they were born doing it. When she whispers something in his ear, he laughs, head thrown back and they look so gods-dammed happy it hurts.

He stares at them like the idiot he feels like, because some small, shameful part of him is still jealous. Of what they have and how easy it looks and that she is gone since- but the rest of him, the one that calls Jean his brother without a second thought, hurts because he knows it won´t last. Not for people like them. Not if Jean really does follow him.

His friend catches his gaze, winks, then frowns as he fails to return his grin. Jean tilts his head slightly, left eyebrow raised, the _Are you okay?_ obvious in his features. Not even one of their secret gestures, just pure Jean, the boy he knew since he was ten years old. He catches himself, waves back at them, his fingers forming a subtle sign at the end.

_All good._

Jean nods, the lines on his forehead disappearing and then they both turn left, towards the rear of the _Poison Orchid_. Ezri sneaks her hand around his waist and he leans down to press a kiss on her cheek as they go. Locke watches them walk away, picks his cloth back up, starts scrubbing again. And swears to himself, the Archon, the bondmagi, Requin, pirates and fucking poisons be damned, he won´t let it happen. Whatever it takes, he won´t make Jean follow him anywhere that takes him away from the joy in his face right now, a joy he deserves more than anyone Locke knows.

_Fate be damned._


End file.
